“Okay, now I want you to hit me as hard as you can.”
Taken aback, confusion guides my tongue. “Excuse me, do what now?”Has she gone insane? How much coffee did she drink?
“Strike me. To gauge your strength, I first need to establish a baseline.”Yep, she’s insane.
“I’m not hitting you. Why the hell would I do that?” Ending this charade, I walk past the pure insanity, which is her.
“If you intend on passing our trials, you will,” she voices, moving forward, now staring out the window.
“What does this have to do with your trials?”
“Everything, Kyra. The Awakening is one part, but our trials decide your worth within the chosen House. You’re required to fight the House Leader hand to hand, and since we haven’t the slightest clue of what you’ll be gifted, nor your order, this is your best shot for now.
Trepidation consumes me, and Ethan re-enters my mind.Howwas his fight against his House Leader? Did he win or just survive? And what about Angie?
“Are you sure there’s no other way? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Eagerness greets me when she turns. “I’m not worried about being hurt. Healer, remember?” She proudly points at herself.
“Okay, but remember you asked for this.” Little does she know, years of martial arts have trained me for such occasions. We meet in the center, face to face, and Angie stretches her arms out. Vulnerable. “What are you doing now?”
“Waiting for you to strike me. As you mortals say, dealer’s choice. Just make it count.”
My eyes roll. “Fine.” I gaze over her body in search of a non-critical spot and strike her shoulder with half effort.
“You can’t be serious,” Angie tsks. “If that’s all you can offer, I should send you back myself. Either take this in earnest or go home. You’ll die here.” She folds her arms with disappointment, and Ethan’s threats continue haunting me even in hisabsence.
“I’m not weak.” Pressure and heat build into my palms.
“Then prove…” In haste, my fist finds the soft part of her cheek with full force, snapping her head back, and a *pop* rings out. “By the Gods, Kyra. I didn’t say that hard.” She muffles a cry with her hands covering her face, and my heart shatters. I struck Angie out of pure rage without holding back.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Panicking with regret trembling my hands, I try assessing the damage when she explodes into laughter, grinning and wiping away the blood.
“Damn girl, you pack a punch. I retract my previous statement. You’ll do fine here,” she titters.
Pride swells from her recognition. “Told you I wasn’t weak, but we’re not doing this again. I could have hurt you.”
“You will. Tomorrow and the day after, until the trials. We’ll study and train,” she rebuts, walking over to the window. “Honestly, I’m fine. There arethingsin this world capable of hitting much harder.”
We spend our remaining time going over materials in preparation. Including key points pertaining to the Awakening, and the technicality of it all. Before long, time has escaped us, and the stars glow engulfs my entire room. Amidst our many conversations, we organize the living area back to its original form and enjoy a few more cups of cold brew–or should I say,she does.
“By the way, what time is it? I feel like the moon has been up far too long,” I ask, gazing over its beautiful, large orb and the stars surrounding it.
She maneuvers to my side. “Two in the morning, I’d say.”
“Wait, when you showed up, I thought it was early morning. I felt like I was asleep for hours.”
“Slower time, remember. Here, magic affects everything, and our days are slower than in the mortal realm. The longer you reside here, the more your body will adjust.”
“So you keep saying without offering an explanation,” I sigh, cutting my stare to hers.
“Magic, bestie. Magic.” What I’m getting accustomed to is her being terrible at explaining things. “It’s late. I’ll head to my room and recover from being brutally attacked. When you’re free, read over the book sitting on your bed. There’s little doubt you’re a fay now.”
Narrowing my eyes at her sarcasm, I return the gesture when she embraces me with a warm hug. They’re always warm. I squeeze, saying “Good night,” and she summons her white sigil. Stepping into it, Angie winks then vanishes, and I watch her sigil fade in amazement. What I wouldn’t give for just a small drop of her magic.
“Please, let me be a fay.”
Chapter 7
